Harry Potter and The Sword of Power
by Olaf Erikson
Summary: This is the result of a rather odd dream I had a few weeks ago. A HP and MoTU semicrossover. Kudos and thanx to Kates Master for her help. RR. Flamers will be persecuted to the fullest extent of my imagination. Rated for minor language & themes. plz r
1. Chapter 1 through 8

**Harry Potter and The **_**Sword of Power**_

Disclaimer: I can't own it or the clowns will get me...

Genre: Action, Adventure, Mystery

Synopsis: The Dursleys are on vacation in Majorca, leaving Harry behind for the first time in his life.  
AU and X-over.

Chapter 1:

'This is great', Harry thought to himself. The Dursleys were gone on vacation, he had food to eat and he could do as he wished. Too bad he still had a lot of chores to do. But things had gotten better for him since that day on Platform 9 ¾ . The day that the Order had basically threatened his family with life and limb to treat him better. The only thing that still ran him 'round the twist was that though Headmaster Dumbledore had promised to keep him 'more informed' than he had in the past, many things were still missing.

For instance, Harry had no idea what the Order members were doing for the war effort. Not that he wanted to know their deepest secrets. He merely wanted to be kept informed on the whole. Harry, though not the tactician that Dumbledore (or even Ron) was, had some good ideas of how to spend their resources.

Oh well...

It was a little more than a year to the day that his godfather, the Azkaban escapee, not to mention Marauder Extrodinaire, Sirius Black had died. Oh yes by Merlin! did it hurt to think about him. Sirius Black... though he had escaped from the wizards prison merely to capture and admittedly kill his former friend, one Peter Pettigrew; he had also wanted to give Harry a life away from his over-bearing, (and definitely over-weight) family.

Voldemort had been torturing Harry for most of his fifth year at Hogwarts by sending him mental images. At first, it had been quite unintentional. Then He-who-must-not-be-named had done it deliberately. And then it had been done in an attempt to lure Harry to the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. And it had worked. Harry had gone with the intent of saving his godfather from Voldemort's clutches, but the Dark Lord had engineered the whole plan in an attempt to get a prophecy that had been given to Dumbledore almost 17 years earlier.

Damn that prophecy!!!

After a heated battle in which Harry and some of his friends had been injured by the Death Eaters, Dumbledore had saved the day. But it had been too late to save his godfather.

Sirius had been dueling his cousin, Bellatrix LeStrange. He had paused to taunt her, much as he had done when they were attending Hogwarts, and she had shot a red colored curse at him, sending him through The Veil of Death. Harry had been forcibly restrained by his former DADA teacher Remus Lupin, lest he follow Sirius through the Veil.

Harry's sixth year at school had been somewhat better. The Ministry had finally admitted that the Dark Lord... Thingy had returned. But it had been a case of too little, too late for Cornelius Oswald Fudge. The former minister had been ousted from office and replaced by Rufus Scrimegour from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Private lessons with the Headmaster had yielded information that was proving itself vital. The reason that Voldemort was so bloody hard to kill was the fact that he had made several Horcruxes. These were items in which Voldemort had placed a piece of his soul, binding his spirit to the earthly plane. Should his body be destroyed, as it had been when he had tried to kill Harry as a baby, the Horcrux would give him a way back to another body.

Three of the Horcruxes had been destroyed. Voldemort's diary, his grandfather's ring that had been passed down from Salazar Slytherin to the Gaunt family, and Slytherin's locket. Getting the locket had been especially trying for Harry and the Headmaster. Blood sacrifices, an army of Inferi, and a highly toxic (and painful) potion had all guarded it. In the end, it had been worth it. The diary had been destroyed by Harry five years earlier. And he had subsequently used it to free Dobby the house elf. The ring had been destroyed by the Headmaster, and he had nearly lost his arm in the process. The locket had taken quite the beating from the Order, before finally being destroyed.

The other items were proving to be elusive to find. But at least they knew what they were. A cup that had been owned and prized by Helga Hufflepuff, a golden Phoenix feather quill that Rowena Ravenclaw had used and Voldemort's own familiar Nagini. The snake that stayed at Voldemort's side would most likely be the hardest to acquire and destroy.

Thoughts like these had been running around Harry's mind as he did his chores, ate his meals and watched the tely.

Chapter 2:

Harry lay on his bed dreaming. It was a rather odd dream. He was sitting in his History of Magic class. But it was not being taught by the ghostly Professor Binns. It was being taught by an old man.

"Now, class. I am your professor, Professor Myridden. And today we shall be learning about the beginning of magic."

Harry, though normally asleep in the class, was rather excited. What a chance! To hear about the beginning of magic itself. He looked around to see if he was dreaming of his friends and fellow classmates. Wanting to borrow some parchment from his best mate Ron, he was surprised to see that he wasn't there. Nor was any one else!

"No need for parchment or quills today, class. Today's lesson shall be practical."

Harry was startled. A practical lesson in history. This dream was definitely inching its way up his 'weird' list.

The teacher again spoke. "Walk with me."

Getting up, Harry followed his professor.

"Nobody really knows how magic came into being, or even if it really had a starting point. What we do know is that it was discovered by a woman who became the first known sorceress. Not only that, she was what most would call a muggle-born."

Harry was astounded. The first true user of magic had been some one like his other good friend Hermione Granger. The professor opened the door to the classroom and bade Harry to follow him out.

Walking the corridor, Professor Myrriden continued his lecture.

"It has been so long since that day. Not even her name is known any longer. For untold ages after, she was simply known as 'The Sorceress'. Using her gifts, she built a great castle to house her power and created a council to advise and guide her."

Stepping up to a staircase, Harry wondered if his dream was something that he could take an active roll in.

"Professor, where was this castle?"

The teacher spoke as though he had not heard the question but answered it any way.

"It was and is still located precisely where we are. It was eventually named 'Castle Greyskull'. Contrary to popular belief, the founders of Hogwarts did not build the school. They merely discovered it and reformed and re-named it."

Suitably shocked, Harry's mind was reeling. 'This certainly throws the beginning of Hogwarts out the window. Guess that Hogwarts: A History was wrong. Hermione will be disappointed.'

"You will not speak of this lesson to any, other than the Headmaster." The teacher was stern sounding, but continued the lecture.

"The day eventually came that one of the earliest wizards wanted to know the secrets of Castle Greyskull and take its power. To this end, the Sorceress created what was known as the 'Sword of Power' and gave it to a young prince. This prince became the defender of the castle and the sorceress. This prince was given a great gift in addition to the sword."

Pausing for a moment, Myridden spoke again.

"The Sword of Power was more than a weapon of war. It was also a repository of all the knowledge of the day. It also enabled the prince, its bearer, to become the greatest warrior. Prince Adam became known as He-Man."

As the lesson continued with some of the adventures of He-Man, Harry was truly thrown for a loop. 'How did the muggles get a hold of this?'

Pausing at his destination, Myridden looked at Harry.

"Nobody knows."

"So the shows on the telly actually were real? They actually happened?"

"Yes" was his answer.

Harry looked at the spot where they were standing. The headmaster's office...

"This is where the Sword of Power resides to this day."

Harry, while not quite as smart as Hermione, or even the average Ravenclaw; was able to put two and two together and come up with four.

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor is the Sword of Power."

Reaching up to the shelf where it was housed, Myridden handed it to Harry. And gave Harry a greater shock.

"Oh yes. The castle and the sword have waited for you, young Harry. For you have the strength of character and the will to use this power wisely, for the good of all. For you shall become the new champion."

Harry awoke to find himself in his bedroom at Privet Drive.

'Merlin! Was that a real dream or what?'

Looking around, his eyes fell upon his room. There, in the corner, was the Sword of Power.

Chapter 3:

The Dursleys returned from their vacation in Majorca. To prevent any complaints from his uncle or his aunt, Harry went outside and unloaded their luggage from the car without being told.

Uncle Vernon looked around, as though trying to find fault with Harry's efforts to keep the house clean and tidy.

"Well boy, I'm impressed. The house is still standing."

Harry's only reply was "Yes Uncle Vernon."

"Boy, your reward for not destroying the house is I will take you to London to do your school shopping."

Outwardly, Harry showed nothing. Inside however, he was whooping for joy.

"Thank you Uncle Vernon."

His only reply was a rough 'You're welcome'.

"Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get what you need and get in the car!"

Harry needed no further urging. He ran up the stairs to his room and grabbed his wand and vault key. Looking at the Sword of Power, he grabbed it also. The sheath for the sword was magically buckled to his body and turned invisible. As this happened, Professor Myridden's voice called out in his mind.

'For the Remembrance of Greyskull'...

Running downstairs and out the door, he found his uncle in the car.

"Get in boy! Before I change my mind..."

A hastily uttered 'Yes Uncle Vernon', and they were on their way.

Not too much time later, they were parked a block away from the Leaky Cauldron. Turning to his unwanted nephew, Vernon's voice was stern.

"Look here boy. I have business at Grunnings today that will take a few hours. Maybe three or four. Be done by then or you will walk home!"

Nodding meekly, Harry got out of the car and headed for the Leaky Cauldron. Going inside he was greeted by Tom, the barkeeper.

"Hello Mr. Potter. School shopping again?"

"Yes Tom. My uncle had business in London to take care of and he brought me in to town with him."

Tapping the bricks of the back wall, Harry readied himself to enter the wizarding world once more.

Tom the Barkeep look at Harry's retreating back. 'Nice sword Mr. Potter.'

Chapter 4:

As the gateway was closing, Harry headed for Gringotts, the wizarding bank. Walking inside, he was greeted by a goblin.

"Welcome to Gringotts."

"Hello Griphook. I am here to do my school shopping."

"I must say that it is rare to find a wizard that remembers the name of any goblin. Let alone one they met six years earlier."

"I am not most wizards, Griphook. All I've ever wanted was to be an ordinary wizard. Thanks to Voldemort, that is not possible."

"The stories of your bravery must be true for you to speak his name aloud."

"Griphook..." Here Harry paused. "Being brave has nothing to do with it. It just that my friend Hermione is starting to rub off on me."

A wide goblin smile graced Griphook's face.

"That is certainly true. I have no wish to keep you longer than necessary, so shall we go to your vault?"

"Yes please."

A seven minute cart ride later and the pair was standing before Harry's vault. Taking the lantern, he handed Griphook his vault key.

Twisting the key in the lock, Griphook then ran a long finger down the front of the door.

"Griphook, why did you do that?"

Turning to look at his companion, the goblin replied.

"Normal vaults need only a key for access. Since the death of Sirius Black, and your subsequent inheritance, your vault has been upgraded to 'High Security'... Not that we have anything that is of 'low security'."

Nodding in understanding, Harry went into his vault and gathered several handfuls of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. Harry paused for a moment.

"Griphook, is there any easier way to get money out of my vault than this?"

"None that I know of. But I can get you a 'High Security Vault' money pouch. They are charmed to be feather light, and can hold up to 7 times the apparent volume in gold." Snapping his fingers, Griphook handed Harry the bag that appeared in his hands.

"Take this pouch, and say the following phrase: 'You are mine, and mine alone'."

Nodding, Harry did as told. "You are mine, and mine alone."

A blueish white glow surrounded the bag for a few seconds, and then stopped.

Griphook spoke again. "The pouch has now been keyed to your magical signature. If ever it is stolen, it will appear in your vault and you will be notified by owl to come into Gringotts and retrieve it. Should you wish to add somebody in the future, say a spouse or some one that is truly worthy of your trust, merely say their full name and add the phrase 'has my permission'. Please note that this does not allow them to enter your vault."

Harry quite understood. Then he remembered something that happened once while his aunt and uncle had taken him shopping for Dudley's birthday.

"Griphook, how often does Gringotts update its banking practices?"

The friendly goblin looked thoughtful. "Not since I started working for the bank. And that was just over 200 years ago."

Harry pressed on with his thoughts. "Have you ever heard of a 'credit card' or 'debit card'?" Seeing the goblin shake his head, he continued.

"In the muggle world, it is generally not safe to carry large sums of money in your pocket. A number of years ago, banks came up with the credit and debit cards. They are small rectangular pieces of plastic about this big..." And he demonstrated. "The way the credit card works as I understand it, a company with a lot of money will back your purchases. You pay them back that amount plus interest and that is how they make their money. The debit is quite similar but it is tied directly to your bank account. As long as the gold is available in your account to pay for whatever you are purchasing, the store you are at is then permitted to take only that amount from the account. Of course, the bank gets their money from this by charging a 'per transaction' fee."

Griphook looked thoughtful and then smiled. "You may have just solved one of our biggest problems." Closing the vault door, they made their way back to the cart for the trip back to the main lobby. As they entered the lobby, Griphook spoke to his assistant.

"Snaptooth! Call the board. Room five."

There was a flurry of activity as several goblins made their way down a hallway to a door that was marked with a large golden number '5'. Harry looked on in wonder as he was bid to sit at one end of the table with Griphook at his side.

"Harry Potter here has solved the problem of the money pouches. It would be faster and just as secure. And the benefit is we at Gringotts would make even more gold."

The bank president looked sharply at Harry. "Explain."

Over the next half hour, Harry explained to the board what the credit card and debit cards were and how they worked and how the bank could make its money. When asked what they looked like, Harry picked up a near by quill and drew a quick sketch on a piece of parchment. The drawing was passed around by the board and all of them were wearing great, toothy grins.

The bank president, Ragnarök suddenly stood up.

"You have indeed done the bank of Gringotts a great service, Mister Potter. As payment for your service, you will have both cards made for you, free of charge. As further payment for solving our problem, no interest will accrue from your purchases with the debit card, ever. And since you will be the first to receive the credit card, your interest payments will only be 1/3 of 1 percent of your purchases for the rest of your natural life."

Harry naturally was shocked into silence. It took his brain a few moments to catch up with his ears.

"How soon would this new system be implemented?"

The goblin that headed Research and Development spoke.

"It would take 2 days to build the cards themselves, along with the device to read their signature and accept the authorized shopkeepers vocal command for purchases. And another day to install the devices in the shops that want them. And in answer to your unspoken question, you will receive your cards in 3 days and be able to use them immediately upon your receiving them."

Harry was astounded again. 'How can they pull this off so quickly'?

Outwardly, he could only nod and give his sincere thanks. Then something else occurred to him.

"Mr. Ragnarök, would it also be possible to make these cards usable in the muggle world?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter. That would be quite simple. The cards to any muggle will simply look like one of their types of credit cards. The galleon to muggle money exchange rate will remain stable at a most favorable rate for you since you are the first."

"Thank you Mr. Ragnarök. You have truly made my day. May your hallways shine like silver and be ever full of gold."

"It is we who should thank you Mr. Potter. For you have done us the greatest service since Bloodnught the Mighty came up with the idea for the original money pouches."

Giving the goblins another round of his thanks, Harry took his money pouch and left the bank.

Chapter 5:

Harry made his way out of the bank. Walking down the road, he stopped at Madame Malkin's to get some new robes. He had need of new robes and wizard style clothing as he had grown a few centimeters over the last year.

"Hello, and welcome to Madame Malkin's. My name is Lavender. How can I help you today?"

Harry thought that it was only fitting that the young witch that prided herself on her beauty, be found working in a clothing store.

"Hi Lavender. I'm just here to get my shopping done early."

"Oh wonderful! My specialty." Before Harry could voice his desires, Lavender had bid him to stand on the tailoring stool and took his measurements. Of course being magically inclined made many jobs and tasks easier, and shortly thereafter they were done with the measurements.

"Now Harry, what were you looking for, wizard or muggle?"

"Some of both actually. I was thinking of a dress robe, two formal robes, and two student's robes with my house crest. For muggle, let me see what you have."

Nodding her understanding, Lavender went to the racks that contained the robes that he had asked for and returned with them piled in her arms.

"I would like you to try these on, one at a time to make sure that they fit the way that you want them to Harry."

He happily complied. The robes fit him quite well and needed only a few minor changes. Muttering a few charms, Lavender fixed his robes. It took a bit longer for the muggle clothing, since Harry was used to wearing his cousin Dudley's castoffs. But in the end he ended up with a few pairs of slacks, some jeans, a handful of T-shirts, and some dress shirts. Needless to say he had gone a fetching shade of red when Lavender had asked him 'Boxers or Briefs'.

His robe shopping done, they went to the front of the store so he could pay. The total of his purchases came to 45 Galleons, 12 Sickles and 3 Knuts.

"Uh, Lav. I'm not 17 yet. Can you shrink these for me?"

Giving him a questioning look, she complied. "You didn't hear about it in the Prophet did you Harry?"

"Hear what?"

"The Headmaster recently convinced the Minister to lift the restrictions on under aged magic use, so long as it was with a parent or guardian's consent. But it does help that we are in an entirely wizarding village."

Feeling sheepish, Harry thought to himself 'I really need a subscription'. Outwardly, he smiled and thanked Lavender for informing him. Gathering his shrunken clothes, he left the shop; feeling rather good about his clothes for once.

The rest of his shopping went quickly. In short order, he had his books for his seventh and final year along with owl treats for Hedwig and all the potion ingredients that he had needed. While not getting into Snape's NEWT level class had bothered him, he realized that he didn't want to be an Auror any longer. In fact, he had no clue as to what he wanted to do. Seeing that he still had an hour before he had to meet his uncle outside the Leaky Cauldron, he made his way to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream shop.

Chapter 6:

Harry was rather lost in thought when he felt a hand suddenly clutch his shoulder. Without thinking, he spun in place and cast the first spell he could think of.

"Expelliarmus!"

It wasn't until the maroon robed assailant landed with a pained grunt that Harry realized that he had cast the spell without a wand. Picking up the wand that had been dropped at his feet, Harry made his way to the fallen figure.

Pointing the wand at his assailant, he barked out "Who are you?"

Sitting up slowly as to not cause Harry any alarm, they spoke. "It's Shacklebolt, Potter."

Chastened, Harry offered him a hand. Shacklebolt took it and pulled himself upright.

"That was fast, Potter. Wait… where's your wand?"

"It's in my sleeve."

Taking his wand back, the Auror looked at him. "A wandless disarming charm. Impressive Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, Kingsley."

"There's no time for pleasantries. The Order received a report that you had left your home without an escort. Care to explain?"

Walking with the tall Auror, Harry told him about how his uncle had thanked him for not burning down the house and the subsequent 'reward' for the non-misdeed.

"So what happens now sir?"

"Well, for now—DUCK!!!"

With that shout, Kingsley shoved Harry into an alley way. Harry slowly peeked around the corner to see the tall Auror running to do battle with a group of Death Eaters.

"Kingsley!!"

"STAY THERE!!!"

Harry knew that he could handle himself in a fight. But he also didn't want to get himself killed, or disobey Shacklebolt.

Unbidden, the words of the Professor from his dreams rang out in his mind… 'For The Remembrance of Greyskull…'.

Feeling apprehensive and a bit foolish, Harry drew the Sword of Power from the scabbard on his back…

Chapter 7:

Holding it high, Harry shouted out.

"FOR THE REMEMBRANCE OF GREYSKULL!!!"

There was an explosion of lightning around him. But strangely, he was not hurt from the strike. Harry could feel the power coursing into his body from the very magic in the air. Looking down at himself, he saw that he had gotten several centimeters taller, his body had filled out with muscle, and his hair had changed to a dirty dish-water blonde. His clothing had changed also. No longer was he wearing castoffs that were 5 sizes too big; dragon-hide boots clad his feet, heavy leather pants had replaced Dudley's jeans, and his cousin's food stained shirt had become a cream colored, sleeveless shirt that tied together in the front with a thin strip of leather.

Pulling the sword down into a salute, Harry saw that it too had changed. No longer was it the sword of a dueler, it was a huge weapon that resembled a Scottish Claymore. He then remembered the rest of the magic on his own.

"I HAVE THE POWER!!!"

A feeling of contentment from his magic told him that he was ready. Reaching up to his face, he was surprised to see that his glasses had disappeared, yet he could still see clearly.

Rushing out of the alley that he had been shoved into, he was just in time to see Kingsley fall before the Death Eaters in the throes of the Cruciatus Curse.

Walden MacNair was a Death Eater simply because he enjoyed killing. Muggles, Mudbloods or blood traitors; it didn't matter to him. He was the first to see the massive warrior running up the street in their direction. Casting the disarming charm in Harry's direction, he was shocked to see that the warrior simply used the sword to bat it aside with no more trouble than swatting a fly. Changing tactics, he sent a powerful bludgeoning curse.

Harry jumped into the air, avoiding the curse and landed in front of the Death Eaters. Striking swiftly with the sword, he lashed out. The destruction of some of the wands they had been holding forced the Dark Lord's minions to apparate out of the alley.

Seeing that there was no more immediate danger, Harry sheathed his weapon and looked down to check the fallen Auror. Kingsley Shacklebolt was unconscious and seemed to have a broken arm. Bending down, Harry gently lifted the Auror and was momentarily wondering where to go. He finally decided to take him to the Hogwarts hospital wing. Forgetting that he had not yet learned to apparate, he simply willed himself to appear in the infirmary.

From the start of the fight, the people that had been simply going about their business watched from their hiding places as an unknown warrior had disabled the Death Eaters in one strike. Their apprehension was heightened when said warrior had picked up the fallen Auror and disappeared. Harry didn't know that people were already gaining the hope that there would be a swift end to the second War of Darkness.

Chapter 8:

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin-First Class, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot and too many other titles and honorifics to remember was having an ordinary day. It was the 30th of July and all was quiet… so far. He had spent the weeks since he and Harry had destroyed the locket Horcrux looking for another Potions Master to teach for the coming school year. Professor Snape had proven his worth and loyalty, for he was going to be the first person in over 50 years to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for the second time. The Headmaster had also gotten Harry Potter's 17th birthday present; the deed to a rebuilt and very heavily warded house in Godric's Hallow.

He was looking over the résumé and application for the final candidate who had applied for the job of Hogwarts Potions Master when he felt a slight tingling in his skin. This usually indicated that there was an eminent threat to the castle. Somehow, this felt… different. All of a sudden, there was a resounding BOOM as somebody had just apparated through the wards. As the Headmaster of the school, he was the only person to have the ability; insofar as he knew. It was a secret that was passed only from headmaster to headmaster, that they alone, because of their position could do this. Not even the writer of Hogwarts: A History knew. Sending his magic as a request, Hogwarts herself informed Albus of two things. The first had been that two people had just appeared in the hospital wing, one of them injured; and the second was a most curious statement, especially for a castle… 'My Hero…'.

As Dumbledore raced to the hospital wing, he pondered the castle's statement. He got the feeling that it was not the declaration of a smitten young woman. It felt more like the castle was welcoming the intruder home after a long journey.

Upon reaching his destination, he wandlessly opened the doors. Looking down the rows of empty beds, he saw a powerfully built man gently placing Order of The Phoenix member Kingsley Shacklebolt onto the bed nearest to Madame Pomphrey's office.

"She is not here."

The stranger looked up.

"Then floo St. Mungos and get a healer if you would. Auror Shacklebolt was hit with several Torture Curses and broke his arm as he fell to the ground."

"I will gladly do so, if you will wait with him for a moment."

"Certainly Headmaster."

Walking into the hospital matron's office, he took a pinch of Floo Powder from the earthen pot next to the fireplace and gave it the proper toss.

"St. Mungos, Trauma Ward!"

Sticking his head into the emerald green flames, his sight fell upon a healer.

"Headmaster Dumbledore! This is a surprise. What can I do for you?"

"There is no time for pleasantries, Healer Ross. Auror Shacklebolt has been injured by parties unknown and is here in Hogwarts."

Setting his game face on, the healer became all business.

"Give me two minutes and I'll be there."

Nodding his assent, Dumbledore removed his head from the fire. He wondered about many things as he walked back into the ward proper. Who was this man? Where did he come from? How did he manage to force his way through the wards that protected the castle? These questions and more were running through his mind as he walked back to where Shacklebolt lay unconscious.

The unknown man stood as Albus entered the room.

"St. Mungos?"

"Two minutes and they shall send a healer."

"Good."

They waited in silence until they heard the roar of the floo. Healer Ross stepped into the room and immediately set to work. Drawing his wand, Healer Ross scanned the Auror.

"Multiple abrasions, minor contusions, compound fracture of the radius and ulna and multiple exposures to the Cruciatus Curse. It will take some time Headmaster, but he will recover fully."

Not bothering to remain behind, the unknown man and the Headmaster turned and walked out of the ward.

Glancing carefully at the man beside him, Albus took a look.

"May I ask where you come from?"

"You may, but let us retire to your office, Headmaster. I would ask that once we get there that you put up your strongest anti-listening wards. My teacher said that I may explain my current status only to you and no other."

Albus nodded his assent, and before long they stood at the gargoyle that guarded his office.

"Jolly Rancher."

With the grinding sound of stone on stone, the stairway appeared. The walk upwards took little time, yet seemed an eternity to both. Closing the door to his office, Albus cast the desired wards and asked the castle for additional security.

Albus felt a keen anticipation radiating from the castle and wondered if it had anything to do with her curious statement.

"Headmaster, what do you know of the true history of this castle?"

"All I know is that the school was built around 1000 years ago by the Founders. There is little to nothing actually written about the process."

The tall warrior looked bemused.

"Would it surprise then that the castle is far, far older than anyone suspects? Or that the Founders did not build it, they merely… found it?"

Dumbledore was rather disturbed at this. "What do you mean?"

The warrior continued his story. "The origins of this castle are actually tied to the beginning of or should I say the discovery of magic. A woman built it to contain knowledge and house her physical body. She was the first magical human. As time passed, her power grew. An old student of hers coveted that power and the knowledge that lay within. To protect herself, the castle, and the secrets, she forged a sword; this very one in fact, and gave it to a young prince. He was named the defender and champion."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 9

Prof. Dumbledore sat there in quiet contemplation, mulling over the stranger's words.

"You spoke of a teacher…"

"Yes Headmaster. Whoever it was, I am not entirely sure. He did call himself Myrriden though."

Dumbledore, simply put was shocked.

"Myrriden you say? That is one of the lesser known variations of the man that most wizards and some muggles know as 'Merlin'."

The unknown warrior of light sat there, thinking.

"I guess I should have suspected his identity; what with his names being so close to each other…" Here he paused. "Headmaster, I must ask you to take a step back as it is time for me to reveal myself."

Getting out of his chair, Albus stepped a few paces away and stopped in the doorway of his office's antechamber.

The tall, powerfully built man drew his sword and held it aloft.

"Let the Power Return!"

Dumbledore was momentarily blinded as lightning flashed. In an instant his sight cleared and he watched in astonishment as the massive figure seemed to shrink and draw into itself. In another instant, it was over and the figure before him returned the sword to a scabbard that was apparently hidden under an illusion charm and a 'notice me not' charm.

"Mr. Potter…"

"Yeah it's me…"

"Everything good and bad seems to find it's way to your doorstep does it not?"

Harry sighed. "Sure does."

"Harry, if you would be so kind, how did this come about?"

The small for his age, and rather skinny boy took his seat as he pondered how to start.

He began by telling the Headmaster what had happened over the summer with his 'family' vacationing in Majorca. Their return and his uncle's grudging approval over the stat of the house. Harry told Albus all the details he could remember of his class within his dream with Albus sitting there in silence, taking in every word.

Pausing his narrative, it looked to Dumbledore that the warrior or his student rather, was listening to something that only he could hear.

And to nobody it seemed that Harry nodded in affirmation.

"Sir, the castle has asked me to tell you a bit more."

"A bit more, Harry?"

"Yes sir. What do you know of your ability to 'speak' to the castle?"

"I have assumed that it was simply part of the deal of being a headmaster."

"That is part of it; however, the castle's voice and spirit are not byproducts of its construction. Remember that I just mentioned that the first known Sorceress built this castle?"

Albus merely nodded.

"When the death of The Sorceress grew close, she cast a spell that would bind her soul to the castle." Seeing the elderly headmaster flinch, "No, she did not create a Horcrux. She transferred her entire soul and mind. Not just a fraction. That is what, or should I say who you have been speaking to all these years."

Albus was flabbergasted. Speaking with the first magical being all this time… The things that could be discovered and learned!

As all this was sinking in to Dumbledore, Harry looked at his watch and saw that he needed to get back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Headmaster, may I take my leave? I promised my uncle that I would be there."

"Of course my boy. Use my floo here if you like."

"Thank you sir. I will be in touch through Hedwig if anything happens."

Albus nodded his assent, and ushered Harry over to his private floo.

Taking a fistful of the powder, Harry threw it into the fire and was gone.

Chapter 10

To Harry's chagrin, he once again did a faceplant on the floor in The Leaky Cauldron.

Tom the barman rushed over and picked Harry upright. Brushing him off, he asked Harry about his shopping.

"I managed to get what I needed and more."

"Anything I can do for you, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes Tom. If you would be so kind as to get a subscription to the Daily profit in my name and have it sent to me?"

"Sure thing Mr. Potter."

Walking out the door, Harry spotted his uncle driving up the street. Flagging him down, he got into his uncle's car.

"Well boy! Where are your things?"

"I have them in my pocket, Uncle Vernon."

Sparing a quick glance, Vernon started to go a funny shade of puce.

"What do you mean by that BOY?!"

"It means Uncle Vernon, that my purchases were shrunk to make them easier to carry."

"I see…"

The rest of the ride home was spent in silence. Harry wondered what was going to happen when he stepped through the door.

As soon as his uncle walked into the house, Harry braced himself for the worst.

"Boy, I want to know here and now what the political and economic climate is in your world, freakish as it is, and how it will affect the normal world."

"Uncle Vernon, what precisely do you want to know?"

"That headmaster of yours sent a letter, I suppose it is, to me explaining some of what has happened to you over your time… there. I want to know the details."

Heaving a non-visible sigh of relief, Harry began his tale.

"Did the Headmaster tell you about the troll that was allowed into the school on Halloween of the first year?"

"He did. Tell me what happened."

What followed was probably the longest conversation that Harry had ever had with his uncle.

"What does all this mean for us now?"

"What it means Uncle Vernon, is that the moment I reach my majority in the… my world, this house will no longer be protected by the spells and wards that the headmaster put here."

Vernon paused to put it all in perspective.

"So this means the 'magic' protecting us will fail?"

"Yes."

"What can be done?"

"The simplest thing would be for you and Aunt Petunia to allow me to continue living here until Voldemort is dealt with, one way or the other."

"Boy… Harry, I think we both know that is not a viable option."

"There are two other options that would be just as effective, and you would not have to put up with me being here any longer than needed."

"And they are…?"

"One would be for you to move to a new place and leave no forwarding address, nothing to indicate where you moved to."

"The other…?"

"Remain here and allow the headmaster to put the house under a modified Fidelius Charm…"

"Explain that charm to me again… please."

"It is a very difficult spell to pull off, however simple the concept. What would happen is that your location would be known only to you and the non-wizarding world. Simply put, your location and pretty much your existence, would become a secret that is concealed inside a living soul or person rather; most likely you. In short… nobody from my world could find you, even if they were right here in the family room with you."

"I will discuss all the options with Petunia when she gets home with Dudley. Is there anything else that I should know?"

"The only other thing that is relevant to you in particular is that Headmaster Dumbledore has convinced the new Minister for Magic to lower the under-aged restrictions for magic use to 13 years old with a parent or guardian's consent."

At this, Vernon nearly had a coronary from frightful thoughts as to what Harry could or would do with his 'freakishness'.

Seeing his uncle about to panic, Harry pressed on.

"You don't have to give your permission for that. But… if you do, it would allow me to do my chores more quickly and the end result would be just as good as doing them by hand, if not better than that."

Calming a bit, Vernon looked thoughtful.

"Let's give it a trial run first. You have my permission to do the dishes… your way."

Nodding his assent, Harry got up from his chair and walked into the kitchen where the breakfast dishes were waiting for him.

"There are two ways to do this uncle; one would be for me to 'enchant' the dishes to wash themselves with soap and hot water. The other would be for me to cast the cleaning charm that would leave the dishes as clean as the day you bought them."

"This can be done for any chore?"

"Well, I don't know any lawn care spells, so I would still have to do those by hand. But it would mean that I would never have to track in dirt and then sweep and mop up after myself."

"Either one would be fine."

Looking at his uncle to make sure, Harry drew his wand and pointed it at the sink of dishes…..


End file.
